


Winter Memories

by BrokenHazelEyes



Series: OT4- Greg/Ed/Sam/Spike [47]
Category: Flashpoint (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Multi, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 08:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenHazelEyes/pseuds/BrokenHazelEyes





	Winter Memories

       It’s a icy, misted-over November morning when Spike realized how lucky he was. Nothing was particularly special—the air was crisp, the heater was thrumming away, and the alarm had yet to go off. All the lights were off, and the winter sun was still below the horizon. When it did finally rise, the room would have a hazy glow from the frosted over windows that had the curtains pulled back. There was no reason for him to be awake, but Spike still found himself sitting up in the large bed and resting against the headboard. The covers pooled around his upper thighs, and Ed’s arm, once slung over Spike’s ribs, slipped onto his knee. The bald sniper didn’t stir, but Spike heard Greg shuffle before letting out a half-snore and settling back down.  
        A twisted ankle is nothing, at least not in their line of work, but the panic Spike feels whenever one of his teammates—but mostly, if he’s being truthful, his partners—gets hurt is still there. This time it was Sam, which is unusual for the team. Usually their injuries come from unexpected detonations or, sometimes, a lucky shot from the target—which meant Spike took the brunt of the scrapes and bruises. Mother Nature must have decided to level the playing field for this mission, because an iced-over and rust corroded ladder caused Sam to fall to the ground below. It wasn’t very far, maybe a story, but the blonde sniper was still limping slightly two days later. It was a silly mistake that led to a easily preventable accident, but it was still scary all the same. It could have been much worse, and that was what Spike had been reminding himself since his partner’s fall.  
        In the past, it had been worse.  
        “He didn’t even break a bone. It was a grade one sprain.” Greg had told them in the after a paramedic checked Sam’s ankle. “He’ll be fine in a week or so.”  
        Even with the Sergeant’s reassurance, Spike still felt unsettled. He didn’t like being the one left to worry and have no way to help. It was easier to be the one laid up, drunken on pain medications and half-dead to the world, than to be the one aware and frightened. But still, he reminded himself, it could have been worse. Sam could have been in a hospital room with IV lines and on a respirator in an intensive care unit. Instead, he was at home and only had a bum leg for a few more days.  
        Spike looked down at his legs, feeling weight shift off his knees, and watched as Ed rolled over and pulled the covers over his exposed shoulder.  Sam grumbled in his sleep, pulling back on the sheets from where Ed had pulled them tight across the bed, and Spike shook his head gently and smiled. Slowly, Spike slid back down and curled slightly towards Sam. He tucked his head into his arms, pushing his pillow between his shoulder and his neck, and took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  
        For the next hour or so, Spike laid there with his eyes shut as he tried to fall asleep. The breathing of his partners’ and their quiet movements every once in a while worked as white noise, but it didn’t seem to help. The rising sun didn’t help either, as it slowly turned the room a foggy orange-yellow that almost gave it a sepia tone.  
        Having given up on sleeping, Spike slowly sat up again and lifted his legs out from under the covers. As gracefully as possible, which still ended up being pretty clumsy, Spike crawled towards the foot of the bed—as he was trapped on either side by people he didn’t want to wake up. Though Spike bet none of the men would be exactly upset to awaken to Spike straddling them, even if they had the wrong idea. Climbing off the end of the bed, having successfully made it there, Spike tip toed out of the bedroom and into the hallway before making his way to the living room.  
        Everywhere were reminders of the members of Spike’s family—his chosen family, romantic partners and team alike. Their shoes were lined up next to the front door, and Jules’ forgotten scarf was folded neatly on the living room table. She had visited to see how Sam was doing, and had left it behind by accident. Spike knows for sure that one of Lou’s mugs is in one of their kitchen cabinets, and Wordy’s got a crossword puzzle book stored on their bookshelf.  
        Crossing the living room, Spike stood in front of the window and watched as snow floated down and rested on the street below. A storm had blown through a week ago, and the thick layer of snow had yet to diminish. By the street it was a slushy brown and black with hints of blue, but up by the driveway and in the front yard it was fresh and powdery. Even in his thick pajama pants and t-shirt, Spike could feel the chill from the window and drew the curtains shut before grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around his shoulders. Stepping around the coffee table, Spike climbed onto the couch and laid down, pillowing his head in his arms.  
        Spike could feel his eyelids droop, which surprised him but he didn’t try to stay awake. Instead, he pulled the blanket tighter around himself and snuggled against the back of the couch. Wind curled against the side of the house, audible now that his partners’ breathing and movements were absent, and Spike was content in the warmth of his house away from the elements.  
        To be truthful, Spike wasn’t sure when he fell asleep or for how long. The living room was quiet, empty, and calm—and it was a quick escape from the stress brought on by simply looking at Sam. Even seeing Greg and Ed made Spike’s chest hurt because all he could imagine was them getting hurt as well. Seeing Sam just reminded Spike that they could get hurt at any time and there was always a chance, though it didn’t happen this time, that one or more of them might not make it back home.  
        The stress had pulled him under, into the chasm of deep sleep, and it had such a tight hold that Spike didn’t even wake up when a pair of arms hoisted him off the couch and carried him back towards the bedroom.  
        “Where was he?” Spike heard someone grumble, and it sounded suspiciously like Greg.  
        “Living room. He was asleep on the couch.” Someone, who sounded like Ed, answered back. Spike, starting to slowly wake up and gain situational awareness, realized he was up in the air and slowly being placed down on something soft and flat. A pair of arms pulled him towards the middle of the bed, and Spike heard someone shut the blinds over the window and then pull the curtain shut.  
        “I shut off the alarm.” Sam mumbled against Spike’s back. Greg made a noise of acknowledgment in the back of his throat, and slipped an arm over Sam’s side to paw at Ed’s arm.  
        “Forgot it was our day off.” Ed muttered, grabbing Greg’s hand back and pressing up against Spike’s front.  
        Spike reached up and rubbed his eyes before relaxing into Sam’s embrace and carefully moving his legs towards Ed to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally agitate Sam’s ankle further.  
        “It’s snowing out.” Spike yawned as Ed pressed a kiss against his forehead. Immediately, Spike felt Sam sleepily grin into the space between his shoulder blades.  
        “I get to watch you three shovel.”  
        Immediately, Greg and Ed groaned and Greg even swatted Sam’s head with his free hand. Spike smiled as the four of them settled down and slowly fell asleep in the warm bed.  
        It was on a cold, foggy November morning that Spike realized how lucky he was, and it was a morning that he cherished whenever the job got rough and the team was worked to the bone and beaten down.  
        “You can’t take things for granted,” his mother had once said, “you have to cherish every second you have.”  
        So Spike did.


End file.
